Because You Weren't There
by CJtheStoryteller
Summary: Set during TMNT season two. After an argument with his brothers, Donatello gets a chance to see what the world would be like if he had never been mutated. **2017 TMNT Universal Reader's Choice Awards winner**
1. Chapter 1 - Baby, It's Cold Inside

_***Disclaimer:**_ ** _ _ _I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise, 'It's a Wonderful Life', or 'The Greatest Gift.'___**

 _ ***'Because You Weren't There' Summary:**_ _**After an argument with his brothers, Donatello gets a chance to see what the world would be like if he had never been mutated.** ****** **Set during season two.**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: Ever since I was a little kid, 'It's a Wonderful Life' has been my very favorite movie and I've always wanted to write something along that line. So, here's my attempt to recreate the holiday magic that Frank Capra (film director and producer) and Philip Van Doren Stern (author of the short story the film was based on) did with their beautiful tales of how no man is a failure who has friends. Or, in this case, no 'turtle' is a failure who has 'family.' ;)**_

 _ **This work was originally intended to be a 'Shell Shot,' but it wound up a wee bit longer than initially planned, so I will be posting it as a short, multi-chapter story. I have been working on this piece for almost a year now and I'm really, really hoping you're all going to like how it turned out.**_

' _ **Because You Weren't There' is dedicated to my extraordinary friend, Captain Vegeta. Her beautiful short story, 'What is Santa Claus?' inspired me to write a Christmas story of my own. I love you very much, my dear, dear friend.**_

 _ **All right, let's get this one started. Thanks so much for reading.**_ _ **;)**_

 _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Chapter 1 – Baby, It's Cold Inside**

I stare down in glassy-eyed disbelief at the shattered pieces of my latest project. Nearly every waking minute of my 'spare' time the past two weeks has been devoted to the new pair of night vision ooze goggles that now lay broken in my trembling hands.

In a matter of five minutes, all my hard work and effort had been carelessly destroyed.

I'm not sure what hurts more. The fact that my invention is ruined or the fact that my own brother did this.

"Sorry, D."

These are two words I hear far too frequently come from the lips of my youngest sibling. While I can see that Mikey feels remorse for what he's done, it's impossible for me to take his apologies seriously anymore. Not when he's constantly wrecking my things. He knows how hard I've been working on this project, yet he used it for his own personal amusement.

"Sorry? SORRY!?"

The sheer volume of my voice makes Mikey shrink partway inside of his shell. It also makes my older brothers come bursting into my lab; their eyes wide, searching the area as though something had exploded. In a way, I guess it had. Or rather _I_ had.

"What's going on in here?" The second Leo sees the busted goggles clutched in the palms of my hands, realization washes over his face and his shoulders sink like he's disappointed there wasn't an 'actual' emergency. He then sighs out the word, "Oh."

As usual, Mikey is quick to jump to his own defense. "It was an accident! I swear it!"

Is he freaking kidding me?

"That's what you say every time you break something, Mikey! You knew these weren't a toy, and yet, you treated them like they were! You have no respect for my stuff!" To say I had reached my boiling point would've been a severe understatement. Now, whether my sudden outburst is due to overworking myself, a lack of sleep, or a result of seasonal affective disorder, I couldn't tell you. What I do know is that my whole body is shaking with anger.

"Don't get your bandana in a knot, brainiac. He said it was an accident."

Hearing my hotheaded brother have the gall to tell _me_ to calm down is just the proverbial icing on the cake.

When is Raph _ever_ calm?

Oh, and Leo's suddenly hands-off approach really isn't helping matters any, either. He's just standing there, not even trying to contribute anything to the conversation.

Couldn't he stick up for me just this once?

Just _one_ lousy time!

"Do you have any idea how hard I worked on these?" I hold up the fractured remains of my project and shake them for added emphasis. Am I being a bit overdramatic? Probably, but I can't bring myself to care right now. This rant is well overdue.

At long last, Leo speaks up, and I really wish he wouldn't have, because he only proceeds to make things worse.

"Don't you think you're maybe overreacting a little, Donnie?"

Seething with indescribable anger, I glare at my three brothers in disbelief for several, long-drawn-out seconds before I finally blow a fuse.

"NO! I don't think I'm overreacting! The three of you – it's like you don't appreciate anything I do!" I'm fairly certain my thunderous response registers at about a seismic level five quake.

Not the least bit surprisingly, my oldest brother has an expression of someone who's just been slapped across the face.

"What? That – That's not true!"

Of course Leo's going to deny my allegation. Heaven forbid anyone ever accuse Hamato Leonardo of not being perfect.

As expected, my baby brother chimes in next to try to smooth things over.

"Aw, don't be like that, D. It's Christmas Eve! 'Tis the season, bro! We should totally be eating, drinking, and being merry and stuff. Ooh! And remember, we were gonna watch 'Die Hard' tonight? The greatest Christmas movie of all time!"

"I don't want to watch a movie! Thanks to _you_ , I have to start all over on my project!"

The hurt look on my younger brother's face is enough to momentarily curb my anger, but then, Raph reenters the fray and I'm both literally and figuratively seeing red.

"Oh, lighten up, Drama-tello! It's your own fault for letting Mikey anywhere near your stuff! You're the genius. You'd think you'd know better by now. Besides, it's not like you can't fix it."

The condescending way Raph says this instantly turns me into a 'snapping' turtle (pun intended).

"Go ahead, Raph! Make light of it! It's no keratin off your shell, right? Donnie'll just fix it! Just like he fixes everything else around here! No big deal!"

My highly sarcastic response makes Raph growl and I can tell that he's fighting the strong urge to call me a bad name or hit something.

He's not the only one . . .

Then, he just has to go and poke the already agitated beehive.

"So, what? You want like a medal or something?"

"What I want is a simple thank you every once in a while! Is that too much to ask?"

"A 'thank you?' For what? Yelling at Mikey? Spazzing out over some stupid goggles? Ruining a perfectly mediocre Christmas Eve?"

Out of sheer rage, I throw said 'stupid' goggles to the floor at Raph's feet. Silence suddenly reigns supreme, but only for a tense moment or two before I break it.

"That's it! I'm not gonna put up with this anymore! I've done it for far too long! From now on, you three can fix your own stuff! Consider this my resignation!" My fists are clenched at my sides as I storm past my brothers, heading straight for the lab doors. It's a knee jerk reaction to the immense pain I'm feeling inside, I know it, but I just need to walk away.

If I don't leave the lair right now, I'm going to completely lose it.

"Donnie, wait! Where are you going?"

"Anywhere but here!" I'm sure the chill in my voice is colder than the below-freezing temperatures outside.

I don't bother to look back, even as I hear my oldest brother call out to me again or my youngest brother sadly whimper my nickname. The fact that Raph's voice is missing is not all that shocking, but stings nevertheless.

"Donnie!"

"Donnie."

Christmas Eve or not, I don't want anything to do with my siblings right now.

Without even a moment's hesitation, I stomp through the main living space of the lair, glaring at the Christmas tree as I trudge past it. I then flee into the murky depths of the sewer tunnels as fast as my feet will take me.

Away from the lair.

Away from them.

* * *

If there's one thing I love about being topside at the holidays, it's watching all the people scramble to and fro with colorfully wrapped packages stacked up to their chins. Sometimes even higher, depending on their sense of balance.

The night before Christmas brings out all the last-minute shoppers, rushing to find the perfect gift for their loved ones before the stores close for the evening.

There's definitely something to be said about procrastination.

While all the other, more organized consumers are out there, stressing for weeks over what to buy, these eleventh-hour dawdlers only have to stress out for one day. Plus, they invest considerably less time and money into their gifting than the early bird shoppers, who oftentimes spend more than they probably should because they keep finding great deals or even better gifts than what they've already purchased.

In other words, it actually pays to procrastinate, although I would _never_ openly admit that to my baby brother.

Just thinking about Mikey makes me heave out a deep sigh and I watch as my breath swirls and dances about in front of my face.

Brrrrrr.

I wrap my arms around myself in vain hopes of conserving body heat.

It's certainly not a pleasant night, in more ways than one.

Still, I'm enjoying the festive holiday scene and the peacefulness of the rooftops. There may be a lot of hustle and bustle taking place on the streets below, but up here, it's nice and quiet. With no brothers around, things are so much more relaxing.

No Mikey to constantly pester me or break things.

No Raph to insult or threaten me.

No Leo to lecture me or tell me what to do.

Just me and the pigeons.

It's really quite nice, but as much as I'd love to stay up here and bask in these serene surroundings for the rest of the night, I realize it's not all that wise to stay out in this cold for too long.

Maybe I'll stop by April's place and wish her –

The logical part of my brain cuts my thought off midway through.

It's Christmas Eve, genius. Unlike you, she actually _wants_ to spend it with her family. But then again, she doesn't have three ungrateful brothers to deal with.

While I'm sure there are a lot worse things than hanging out with my brothers, I'm having a really, _really_ difficult time coming up with any examples at the moment.

Maybe stopping by April's isn't such a bad idea after all. I'm sure she wouldn't mind it if I just popped in for a few minutes to say a quick 'hello' and wish her a 'Merry Christmas.' I know that her dad's mutation has put a major damper on the holiday season. Perhaps a familiar, friendly face will make her feel a little bit better.

With my mind up, I hastily turn to leave when I slip on a patch of ice next to a roof vent. Though I do my best to break my fall, the bitter cold must have slowed down my reaction time and I wind up doing an epic faceplant.

Real smooth, Donatello . . .

Flurries and bursts of light flood my vision and I'm too dazed to get up for a good thirty seconds or so. It's kind of like in cartoons when the character gets a hard crack to the skull and has to wait for the stars and birds to stop circling around their head.

Once my eyesight is fully restored, I gingerly push myself up into a sitting position, still trying to get my bearings back.

That's when I notice that someone's looming over me; their huge hands coming right for me.

I let out a panicked yelp and try to back away, but the unknown assailant grabs me by the shell with an unusually strong grip and I suddenly find myself being hoisted up into the air.

Oh, this is just great.

Worst. Christmas. Eve. EVER!

* * *

 _ **To be continued . . .**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: Yes, even my Christmas stories have cliffhanger endings. ;)**_

 _ **I sure hope you enjoyed this first chapter. If you did and want to see more of this holiday story, please take a moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment on it to let me know. I would really, really love the feedback.**_

 ** _Just so everyone knows, I'm going to try my best to get all the chapters posted before Santa comes to town. *fingers crossed* Thank you so much for reading. ;) CJ_**


	2. Chapter 2 - Up on the Rooftop

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise, 'It's a Wonderful Life', or 'The Greatest Gift.'**_

 _ ****Special Note: Happy Birthday to my lovely friend, Flaux!**_ **C=**

 _ ***Author's Notes: I'm back with chapter 2 of 'Because You Weren't There' and this one has a little bit of everything. There's some humor, angst, suspense, drama, and perhaps most importantly, Sassatello.**_ **XD**

 _ **Thank you all so much for the overwhelming response to the first chapter. I can't even begin to tell you how extremely grateful I am to all my readers, friends, and followers. It's such a tremendous blessing to have so many amazing people supporting me.**_ **:'}**

 _ **Okay, I'm getting overly mushy here, so I'd better jump right into the chapter. I really hope everyone enjoys it. Thank you for reading.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Chapter 2 - Up on the Rooftop. Click, Click, Click.**

It feels as if my heart's about to leap right out of my plastron and leave me for dead, which is a rather unsettling thought.

Even my own internal organs aren't willing to support me in my time of need.

Not that that should be my biggest concern given my present situation . . .

I mean, I'm currently being held up so that my feet are dangling about six inches above the rooftop by some total stranger that looks to be around two to three inches taller than me and at least fifty pounds heavier.

Yeah. That's probably where my focus should be lying right about now . . .

For reasons I can't really explain, I seem to have momentarily forgotten that I'm a highly trained ninja. I just hang here, limp in the large man's iron grasp, like my muscles are frozen or something.

After several long moments of staring at the human in a hypnotic state, I finally find my voice. Although it comes out in a shrill, almost girly tone that no living being would ever take seriously.

"L – Let me go!"

Much to my surprise, the man immediately obliges and sets me back down on the rooftop, gently of all things.

More than just a little confused by the man's actions, I take several giant steps backwards, being careful not to slip and make a fool out of myself again.

When I feel I've put a safe bit of distance between us, I reach for my trusty bo-staff and assume a defensive stance. Just having my weapon out in front of me instantly makes me feel about ninety-seven percent more confident than I did mere seconds ago. It's a security blanket kind of thing.

"Who – Who are you and what do you want?" Okay, that didn't quite sound ninety-seven percent more confident now, did it?

Way to intimidate the guy, Donatello. I'm sure he's shaking in his boots.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. I was just trying to help you." The man holds his hands up in front of himself to presumably show truce. He doesn't exactly look like a threat. More like somebody's harmless, rather rotund, middle-aged uncle, but that doesn't lessen my defenses any.

"Yeah, well you certainly could've – Wait! Why aren't you running away screaming?" The sudden realization probably should've occurred to me before. This guy doesn't look the least bit surprised by the fact that I'm an oversized, talking turtle. This leads me to deduce that he's either previously seen me or one of my brothers, or he's a tad on the crazy side.

Maybe it's a little bit of both . . .

I can't help but notice this guy bears a slight resemblance to 'The Pulverizer.' Well, a noticeably older version of him, minus the goofy costume. Not that I'm saying the man looks like a doofus (Master Splinter's word, not mine). I mean, I'm not trying to insult the guy or anything. It's just that he looks a little like Timothy is all. Not that that's a bad thing. There are a lot worse –

My rambling thoughts are abruptly – and mercifully – interrupted by the man's confused voice.

"Why would I run away screaming?"

The word 'duh' comes to mind, but there's no need to be rude like a certain red-masked turtle I just so happen to be related to. The last thing I _ever_ want to do is to start acting like Raphael.

"It's just that most humans don't react all that calmly to seeing a – Well, someone who looks like me. Usually people take one glance and head for the proverbial hills."

The stranger's face crinkles up like one of Mikey's greasy potato chip bags that he leaves lying all over the lair. It's a look I'm quite familiar with. My brothers look at me with that same baffled expression every time I try to talk about 'sciency' things.

I'm about to elaborate on my comments when the lightbulb seemingly goes off in the stranger's head.

"Oh, you mean 'cause you're a life-sized, talking turtle? That doesn't bother me, Donatello."

The man's last line makes me take a few more steps backwards and I tighten my grip on my bo-staff.

"How – How did you know my name? I never told you what it was." Though I had fully intended on sounding intimidating when I said this, I come across sounding more tentative than anything else. It's one of the many downsides of being scared out of your wits.

"I know lots of stuff about you, Donnie. Like how you've got three brothers who you don't think appreciate you enough. That you've got a rat for a dad who taught you Ninjutsu. That you spend more time in your laboratory than anywhere else. Oh, and that you've had a crush on April O'Neil since – "

"Okay, that's enough!" In the interest of self-preservation, my thumb is resting on the button that triggers my naginata blade hidden in my bo-staff. That's because I'm now reasonably certain that this guy is nuttier than a fruitcake. What's even worse is that he knows about my family _and_ _April_. And if he knows about my lab, then –

Holy mackerel!

"How do you know all that stuff? Have you been following me? Who the heck _are_ you?" I shift my defensive stance into a much more hostile posture to better convey my increasing anxiety.

The man reacts by holding his hands up in the air, like I just said 'stick 'em up' or something.

Maybe this guy really is a 'doofus' after all . . .

"Please! I don't mean you any harm. I'm just – I'm just here to help you."

Now I'm the one with the confused look on my face.

"Help me? Stalking me is more like it. You know what? Just stay away from me, buddy. I don't need your kind of help!" Turning my shell to the man, I'm about to leap to the next rooftop and hightail it on out of here when the guy speaks again.

"Herman."

This makes me turn back around, if only out of curiosity.

"Excuse me?"

"My name. It's Herman. Herman Steed."

Though I'm half-tempted to say I don't give a Splinter's butt ('Splinter's butt' being the filtered, PG-version of what I _really_ want to say), I try to be civil about the whole thing. As Mikey said earlier . . .

' _Tis the season, bro!'_

"Well, Herman Herman Steed, I suggest you go spend Christmas Eve with your family. And while you're at it, leave _my_ family alone. _Got it_?" I put a little extra scorn on the words 'my' and 'got it' just to make sure I get my meaning across. Then, I once again start to walk away, thinking the conversation is over, but I don't make it very far.

"So does that mean you're going back?"

This question makes me stop stiff in my tracks and I feel a chill crawl up and down my spine, but I can tell you with a hundred percent certainty that the sudden chill isn't from the actual cold nipping at my skin. It's from _him_. There's something way, wayyyyyyyy off about this guy.

"I'm sorry. What?"

It's not like I hadn't heard the man's question loud and clear. It's just that the analytical part of my brain always craves further clarification. Especially when some crackpot you've never met seems to know so much about you.

"To your family? Are you going back to the lair?" The concern in the man's dark-brown gaze is unmistakable, but at the same time, it's also extremely disturbing.

How the heck does he know any of this stuff?

The familiar whoosh of my naginata blade releasing sounds out, and less than a second later, I'm brandishing the razor-sharp edge of my weapon inches away from the stranger's chest.

"Okay, you're seriously starting to creep me out, mister!"

"Herman."

The man timidly repeating his name steals away my thunder for a moment, but just for a moment. I'm not about to let my guard down.

I believe I already pointed out that this guy's nuttier than a fruitcake, but it bears repeating.

This guy's nuttier than a fruitcake. And I _hate_ fruitcake!

"Whatever, _Herman_! Did someone send you here to spy on me or something?" I squint one eye and look about the rooftop suspiciously, like I'm convinced that a coconspirator is going to jump out of the shadows any second now. Years of being secluding in my lab while doing extensive internet research have clearly made me a bit paranoid.

"No. No one sent me, so to speak. I told you, I'm just here to help you."

"And _how_ exactly do you plan on helping me?" I say this in the most sarcastic way possible, but I'm guessing by the rather blank expression on the man's face, my mocking him flew right over his head. Kind of like it always does with Mikey.

"By making you see your own worth. You think that what you do doesn't matter, but it does."

It takes a whole lot of effort to stop myself from rolling my eyes over the man's extremely cheesy comments. Could he possibly be anymore cliché? Honestly, it sounds as if the lines came straight out of one of those corny after school specials Leo claims he never watches.

"No, that's where you're wrong, bud – " I catch myself in the middle of calling the guy 'buddy,' again, and quickly correct the error. " _Herman_. It isn't that I don't think what I do matters. It's that it doesn't seem to matter to my _brothers_." My voice noticeably cracks when I say the word 'brothers,' but I'm quick to cough into my fist and try to chalk the sudden hoarseness up to the cold weather.

"Awww, but it does, Donatello. It matters very much."

This time, I can't stop myself from rolling my eyes. "You don't know my brothers. I'm constantly fixing things and they can't even bother to say thank you. It's like – " I have to start my sentence over again because my throat closes up on me for a moment. "It's like they don't care about anything I do."

"You realize that's not true, right?"

I abruptly turn my head away, because I can feel moisture start to dampen my mask. This guy's going to think I'm a real headcase if he sees the big, bad ninja crying like a baby over a little fight with his brothers. Not that I should be all that concerned about this guy's opinion. He seems to be a bit of a headcase himself.

If Raph were here, he'd most certainly call the man a 'whackjob.'

The thought of Raph immediately makes my heart sink about level with my frozen feet, which in turn, makes me realize that I really need to get out of this biting cold.

"Listen, Herman. I know you think that you're helping, but I honestly don't need any help. I just – I just want to be alone right now. Okay?"

"But it's Christmas Eve. Don't you think you should go back? Your family must be worried about you."

For some reason, that last statement makes anger flare up inside of me again and my hands ball into fists for the second time tonight.

"Worried about me? Ha! Knowing them, they're probably celebrating the fact that I'm gone. I'm sure they're all thinking Christmas will be a lot more fun without me around."

There's perhaps more scorn in my voice than I'd initially intended, but I don't regret a single word of my highly cynical reply.

Bah humbug!

When I turn back towards Herman, I notice his eyes suddenly look like a couple of petri dishes glistening in the moonlight.

Rather than being put off by my increasingly bad mood, the guy looks –

Excited?

"What are you saying, Donatello?"

Rubbing a hand against the back of my throbbing head, I try to organize my thoughts as best I can. I think the frigid temperature outside must be messing with my brain, because I'm having a tough time thinking straight.

"Aw, I'm not even sure what I'm saying. It's just that – Well, sometimes I think my life would've been a whole lot easier if I'd never been mutated. Maybe things would be better off without me, you know? I work my fingers to the bone, and for what? I mean, it's not like my brothers notice me anyway. Things would be so much – Wait! Why am I still talking to you about this stuff? I don't even know you!"

I can feel my left eye involuntarily twitching in its socket, which tells me that I must have the 'crazy' look on my face that my baby brother is always so apt to point out. But the man before me seems undaunted by my expression.

"Sure you do. I'm Herman, remember? And like I already said, I'm here to help you. And now, I know exactly how I can. By making you see that your brothers really do need you. You'll realize that once you're gone."

Huh? Gone?

Okay, I'm not going to lie. This guy's about twelve cards short of a full deck.

Why do I get the sickening feeling that something bad's about to happen?

"Uh, thanks, but no thanks, pal. The best way for you to help me is to just leave me alone!"

Despite the bluntness of my response and my now extremely aggressive features, Herman once again seems undaunted. In fact, he's wearing a smug grin, like he knows something I don't. The kind of grin Raph gets when he's about to –

Attack!?

This makes the pit of my stomach bottom out.

Then, Herman just makes the situation all the more awkward by saying, "Not until I give you a little gift, Donatello."

Before I even have a chance to refuse the man's sinister sounding offer, he holds up an open hand in front of his mouth, purses his lips, and blows a heavy breath into the air.

At least, I thought it was just air.

A fine, green dust seemingly materializes from out of nowhere and hits me right in the face. In a panic, I gasp only to realize seconds later that I really shouldn't have breathed the stuff in. Whatever this unknown substance is, it's remarkably fast-acting. I can already feel the effects of the green powder starting to take hold.

This can't be good.

Quickly cupping a hand over my mouth, so as not to ingest any more of the weird dust, I try to stagger away, but my entire body begins to seize up on me, limb by limb. I'm swaying on my feet and dangerously close to the rooftop ledge, when Herman grabs me by the arm and yanks me back. Unable to control my movements any longer, I topple into a boneless heap on the rooftop.

With what little strength I have left, I force myself to lift my head up and gaze at Herman through eyes that are barely open.

"W – Why?" Is all I can get manage to wheeze out as my face drops heavily into the blanket of snow beneath me. I don't even feel the impact, nor do I feel the cold licking against my skin, comfortably numb to everything around me.

The last thing I see before consciousness releases its grasp on me is a smile plastered on the mysterious man's face.

Then, it's silent night.

* * *

 _ **To be continued . . .**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: Geez! Donnie's really having one lousy night. Poor kid . . .**_

 _ **If you're enjoying this story, please take a quick moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment. The positive feedback truly means the world to me. Thank you very much for reading. I'll be posting again soon. ;) CJ**_

 _ ****Special Notes: Thank you to all the readers who checked out my latest Shell Shot, 'Better Than None.' I really, really appreciate it. Also, to those of you following 'Slash's Revenge,' I will be posting a new chapter later this week. Just so you know, it will be a real roller coaster ride.**_


	3. Chapter 3 - Do You See What I See?

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise, 'It's a Wonderful Life', or 'The Greatest Gift.'**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: Chapter 3 of 'Because You Weren't There' has arrived and I'm not quite sure how describe this one. Donnie's in rare form here.**_ **XD**

 _ **A great big thank you to everyone who has checked out this story and given me such awesome feedback. I appreciate it lots and lots and lots. I sure hope you all like this new chapter. Thank you very much for reading. ;)**_

 _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Chapter 3 – Do You See What I See?**

Even after blinking several dozen times, my eyes still refuse to cooperate. It takes a good minute or so for them to finally come into focus, and when they do, I realize with sudden gut-wrenching dread that I'm lying face down on a dirty, concrete floor.

Well, I guess that explains the painful crick in my neck.

With a great deal of effort, I raise my head up to do a quick scan of the room and assess my surroundings. It appears to be an abandoned business of some sort. There are three desks haphazardly shoved up against the back wall of the large room and a couple of office chairs overturned in the middle of the floor. Other than those few random pieces of furniture, a handful of mousetraps, and a very disoriented mutant turtle (me), the space is completely empty.

I clumsily force myself up to my unsteady feet so I can continue looking around, but nothing about the place looks at all familiar.

There's always something extremely unnerving about waking up in some strange location with no actual recollection of how you got there.

The good news is I appear to be none the worse for wear. A quick onceover of myself reveals no visible injuries or signs that I had been attacked. Aside from feeling a bit groggy and suffering from a splitting headache, there seem to be no other harmful side effects from whatever substance had been used to knock me out.

The bad news is I have absolutely no idea where I am and I don't see my bo-staff or T-phone anywhere in sight.

Super.

All I want to do at this point is drag my sorry shell back home and crawl into my nice, warm bed, but I can't risk someone stumbling across my T-phone. If Leo finds out I lost it, he'll pitch a fit. Which means I'm now going to have to go back up to the rooftop where that psycho went after me.

I grunt in disgust, more than a little miffed with myself for letting some out-of-shape, middle-aged human get the jump on me.

Clearly, all those years of ninja training are _really_ paying off . . .

I'm just glad my brothers weren't here to witness my incompetence.

Speaking of brothers, I probably should get my tail in gear. If I don't get back to the lair soon, someone's bound to come looking for me.

Aw, sewer pickles!

If my brothers track my T-phone and find it lying abandoned on that rooftop, they're going to totally wig out. I can only imagine the epic lecture that would result.

Ugh!

Faster than the speed of light, I rush towards the front of the building and yank the door open, nearly ripping it off the hinges.

As soon as I step foot outside of the building, I stop dead in my tracks and my jaw practically drops to the ground.

I'm not even sure how to describe what I'm witnessing. I mean, I can try, but it's pretty unbelievable. Like Mikey-level unbelievable.

This is literally the weirdest thing I've ever seen, and that's saying a lot.

I'm pretty sure I'm in Chinatown. Or rather what _used_ to be Chinatown. The view before me looks like something right out of a low-budget, sci-fi movie. Most of the structures are still standing, but their appearances have been significantly altered. They now look to be made entirely out of metal. An aluminum alloy to be more precise.

"Holy chalupa!"

It's as if I just stepped straight through a –

KRAANG PORTAL!

As if to prove my point, I hear the distinct sound of Kraangdroids approaching.

And me without my bo-staff . . .

It just doesn't get any better than this!

I quickly duck back inside the building I just left, locking the door behind me as I try to gather my wits about me again. I then crouch down so I can peer out one of the tinted front windows.

Several Kraangdroids are casually walking down the street, followed by a hideously disfigured mutant creature. A hideously disfigured mutant creature wearing a New York Knicks jersey.

Nice to see the Kraang have taken an interest in professional sports . . .

Upon further inspection, I can see that there are more of these creatures loitering about in the distance; all of them wearing what appear to be human clothing articles.

My eyes widen with dawning horror.

That's because these creatures _are_ human, genius. Or rather they _were_ human.

"What the heck is going on?"

"Isn't it quite obvious, Donatello?"

The sudden presence behind me startles me enough that I let out a high-pitched yelp and just about fall over backwards, but I somehow manage to regain my balance and salvage what little remains of my dignity.

Springing to my feet, I spin around and narrow my eyes into furious slits.

" _You_!"

Before my stalker can even try to defend himself, I have him pinned up against a wall, pressing my forearm against his throat.

"You'd better start talking!"

A sickly wheezing sound follows my command as the man feebly tries to free himself from my chokehold. In all honesty, a kitten could put up a better fight than this guy is, but for all I know, he could just be trying to fool me again. Trusting him is essentially what got me into this mess in the first place.

I growl and issue a second command, this one much more hostile. "I _said_ talk!"

"I – I would . . . but you're – you're kind of . . . s – suffocating me."

The dude's got a point.

I let up on his neck ever-so slightly, but not enough that he can escape. I'm not about to let Mr. Helpful here douse me in that freaky pixie dust again.

"Now! Tell me what you did!"

"I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you."

"You drugged me and dumped my body in a vacant building! Exactly what part of that _wouldn't_ I be upset about?" The sarcasm that drenches my every word is sheer perfection, but I don't think Herman even notices it. He's too busy cowering in fear.

Why do I suddenly feel like the bad guy here? This wacko attacked _me_!

"I didn't drug you, per se. I just – I just needed some time to set this whole thing up."

"Uh, yeah. That would still be drugging me. And what do you mean 'set this whole thing up?' What exactly did you _do_?" My patience is wearing dangerously thin, making it more and more difficult not throttle this guy. Seriously. I was already in a bad mood to begin with.

"I just gave you what you asked for, Donatello." The man's rather far set eyes start to shimmer in the soft, pink haze gleaming in through the windows while his round face dips down into a frown.

Having grown up under the same roof as Hamato Michelangelo, I recognize the man's pitiful expression for what it is.

Facial extortion!

"Correct me if I'm wrong here, but I don't recall asking you to send me to some weird, alternate dimension!" Once again, my eye is doing the twitching thing, but in this case, it just might be working to my advantage. I bet it looks cool. Probably makes me look _way_ more intimidating.

Alas, the crooked smile that spreads across Herman's face tells me otherwise.

"This isn't an alternate dimension, Donatello. This is New York City. Christmas Eve, two-thousand-thirteen. The Kraang took over the Earth about a year ago."

"That's a lie! My brothers and I stopped the Kraang's crazy plan to invade the planet!" With that said, I release my hold on the man's neck so I can strike a rather arrogant pose. We don't really get a lot of opportunities to boast about our accomplishments to others, so I feel the need to savor this moment.

But the moment of pride doesn't last for long.

"No. You didn't." The matter-of-fact way Herman states this instantly rubs me the wrong way.

"Yes! We did! I distinctly remember it, since I was there and all!" My previously arrogant pose is replaced by one of disgust. I fold my arms across my plastron in a huff and glare daggers at the man.

"You didn't save the planet, Donatello, because you weren't there to save April from the Kraang. Don't you get it?"

There's a childlike expression on the man's face that hardly seems appropriate given the circumstances. It's like he's enjoying this.

What'd I tell you? Fruitcake!

"Get _what_? What are you even talking about?"

"Really? I thought for sure you of all people would be able to figure this out. You're supposed to be a genius, right?"

"Okay, I'm just gonna ignore that last comment." I take a moment to scowl at the man before continuing. "So, what exactly _should_ I have figured out?"

"That you've been given a chance to see what a huge difference your life has made. You know, like that old holiday movie that everyone claims is the greatest Christmas movie of all time?"

"'Die Hard?'" If this guy's trying to draw a parallel to that movie, he's doing a terrible job of it.

For the first time, Herman finally shows a hint of frustration, but it's short-lived. His lopsided smile soon returns in full force.

"No, no. Not that one. The black and white one from the 1940's, where the guy's guardian angel shows him what the world would be like if he had never been born. You know the one."

"Actually, I don't. I'm a genius, not a movie buff. Besides, my younger brother's in charge of the entertainment in the lair, and there's no way in shell he'd ever watch something with the word 'angel' in the description."

Again, I see a flicker of frustration pass the man's features, but it's just as fleeting as before.

"The point is, I've given you a very, very special gift, Donatello. You actually get to see what things would be like if you'd never been mutated."

Have I mentioned this guy's a total goob? Because I probably should have by now.

"So, what you're telling me is that I singlehandedly prevented the Kraang from taking over the Earth?"

My observation makes Herman do this strange-looking happy dance. It's either that or the poor guy's having a seizure. When he's done gyrating about, he gives me two enthusiastic thumbs up.

"Yes! Precisely!"

"Well, that's a bit anticlimactic, don't you think? Aren't you and your ghost buddies gonna take me around to see Christmases past or future or something?" The skepticism in my tone is glaringly obvious.

This comeback seems to finally strike a real nerve. Herman scrunches his face up in anger and snaps out his response.

"That's a _different_ movie!"

I just can't resist the temptation to further mock the guy.

"Book, technically. The classic one from the 1840's, where the rich guy's deceased business partner shows him what a selfish jerk he is. Written by Charles John Huffam Dickens. You know the one."

Aw, I love the way my mind works.

"I _KNOW_ THE BOOK!" The once happy-go-lucky man has now resorted to yelling and I have to lean back in order to keep from getting spit on.

Apparently, Herman doesn't appreciate my sense of humor.

After a few moments, the guy calms down and looks embarrassed for his little outburst.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that."

Really? The guy apologizes for raising his voice to me, but not for drugging or kidnapping me? That makes a whole lot of sense.

Come to think of it, nothing about this situation makes _any_ sense.

"I don't care that you lost your temper! All I care about is turning things back to the way they were before! So, are you using some kind of holographic imaging system or is this a high-tech form of virtual reality?"

"No . . . it's nothing like that. I – I'm not any good with computers or technology." The man rubs his neck sheepishly and bites his bottom lip as though he's nervous.

"Okay, then what _are_ you using to make all this look real and how do we shut it off?"

"You can't simply shut it off, Donatello. This _is_ real."

I'm about to laugh at this when I see that the man's face is the picture of seriousness.

He actually believes this is real!?

I think it's time for me to get the heck out of dodge.

"Riiiiiiiight." I drag out this word for several long seconds while I take a couple steps backwards. "Well, if you'll kindly tell me where my bo-staff and phone are, I'll just be on my merry way."

"You don't own a bo-staff or a phone, Donatello. You wouldn't have a need for such things if you were never mutated."

But yet, I'm standing here, still wearing all of my gear, not to mention I _**AM**_ MUTATED.

This is insane! I need to get away from this lunatic.

Without so much as a word, I bolt out of the building, unarmed and alone.

I know it's not the brightest thing I've ever done, but hey, I'd much rather take my chances with the Kraang than spend another minute with Captain Cuckoo.

Oh, man.

If I actually manage to make it out of this alive, it'll be a Christmas miracle.

* * *

 _ **To be continued . . .**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I had a lot of fun writing this chapter. Unlike Herman, I absolutely LOVE Donatello's sense of humor.**_

 _ **Just a heads up . . . Things are going to get pretty dramatic in the next chapter. It's a bit of a tearjerker. Oh, and I should note that you won't have to wait too long for an update. I plan on posting the final two chapters next week.**_ **=D**

 _ **As always, if you're enjoying this or any of my other stories, please take a moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment. I truly do appreciate the feedback and hearing from all of you always makes me smile. Thanks so much for reading.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_


	4. Chapter 4 - Away in a Sewer

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise, 'It's a Wonderful Life', or 'The Greatest Gift.'**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: I'm back again with chapter 4 of 'Because You Weren't There,' and as I pointed out in the previous chapter, this one gets pretty dramatic.**_

 _ **Great big hugs to everyone for the awesome feedback you have given me on this story. You guys always make me feel all warm and toasty inside.**_ **8}**

 _ **Thanks so much for reading.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Chapter 4 – Away in a Sewer**

Once outside of the building, I immediately switch into ninja stealth mode and take to the rooftops, knowing it's a lot easier to remain invisible when you're high above the city. Luckily, I'm able to scale up the side of the abandoned building without detection.

Or least I hope so . . .

One never knows when there are Kraang stealth ships lurking about.

The landscape I once knew like the back of my palm is entirely different now. Some of the buildings have been replaced with unusual crystallized structures; others look more like an alien spacecraft than an actual building.

Much to my dismay, I can't take the straightest path home. I have to significantly alter my route, so as to stick to the buildings that still have a flat rooftop for me to leap across.

I try not to let my nerves get the better of me, focusing my concentration solely on getting back to the lair rather than the odd changes to the scenery surrounding me.

Hopefully, my brothers will know what's going on.

All things considered, I make pretty good time, even though I had to stop for several minutes to avoid being spotted by a Kraang probe.

I decide to sneak down into the sewers once I get within about a mile of the lair, just in case someone or something is following me. This will give me plenty of square footage to work with. If there is, in fact, someone tracking my movements, I can easily give them the slip as soon as we're underground.

I head for the nearest manhole cover and silently lower myself down into the shadowy maze of tunnels below the surface.

There doesn't seem to be anyone on my tail, but I take the necessary precautions regardless. It's always better to be safe than sorry.

Weaving through the dark sewer passageways in what I hope is an untraceable pattern, I slowly make my way back to the lair.

The mere sight of the turnstiles that lead to the old abandoned subway station my family and I call home makes all the tension I'm feeling inside instantly start to melt away.

Bolting towards the main entrance, I eagerly climb up the first set of stairs and hurtle over the turnstiles. My mind is racing about a million miles a minute, trying feverishly to formulate some kind of a plan. I just need to get to my lab, so I can run some –

My brain suddenly stops mid-sentence, as do my feet.

All I can do is just stand here, dumbfounded, staring at the space before me.

"Guys?"

My voice echoes throughout the familiar yet strangely unrecognizable room, chilling me straight to the bone.

" _ **GUYS**_!"

This second outcry is verging on desperate, but it falls on deaf ears.

My brothers are not here, nor is my father.

They aren't the only things missing.

As I look around the open space through disbelieving eyes, I realize there is no pinball machine, television set, bean bag chair, Christmas tree, or practice dummy. Nor are there Shoji screens around the Dojo, cushions or pillows on the couch, VHS tapes stored in a dingy, old crate, or empty Antonio's pizza boxes strewn across the floor.

There's nothing but dust and rubble.

"What the . . . ?"

Still in a state of shock, and quite possibly denial, I sprint towards my lab and drag the doors open with far more force than I ever remember having to use before. It feels as if they haven't been operated in years, even though I know darn well that's not the case.

This doesn't make sense . . .

Now verging on panic, I burst inside the laboratory and let out a sharp gasp.

My things! They're all gone.

Everything!

It's just –

GONE!

No! This isn't happening! This . . . _This_ isn't real! There's got to be a logical explanation for this whole thing.

Turning on my heels, I make a mad dash for my brothers' bedrooms. My head tells me what I don't want to hear, but my heart won't let me believe it.

They'll be there.

They're _always_ there!

Just as I'm about to enter Leo's room, I hear a soft voice behind me.

"You won't find what you're looking for, Donatello."

For some strange reason, Herman's sudden appearance doesn't startle me in the least. I simply choose to ignore his comment and step inside my oldest brother's room, only to find that it, too, is vacant. Just like all the other rooms in the lair.

How can this be?

I turn to see Herman standing patiently in the hallway; sympathy written across his face.

"Where's my family, Herman? What did you do to them?" Though the actual words sound like an accusation, my voice holds no anger. Just agony.

The noticeable shudder that rocks Herman's broad shoulders makes my insides twist into knots.

"Wh – Where are they? Just t – tell me what happened to them. Please!" I have to lean against Leonardo's door frame for support. This is all too much to bear.

"I'm sorry, Donatello. I truly am. But your family – They didn't survive."

The beginning of a sob squeaks out of my throat, but I thickly swallow it down.

Still, I nearly choke on my next words.

"They . . . Th – They were k – killed . . . in the invasion?"

Herman dips his chin down and shakes his head to silently say, "No."

"What then? Was it . . . Was it the Sh – Shredder?"

Again, Herman shakes his head, but this time, he elaborates on his response.

"They died around sixteen years ago. Not long after the four of them were mutated."

"No . . . I don't understand."

Herman's sad gaze lifts up to meet mine, and now, I'm the one shaking my head.

"Something very significant happened when you were just a small turtle, Donatello. I'm sure you don't remember, but you saved your father's life. He was trying to protect you and your brothers from the Kraang, but the enemy got the upper-hand. They were about to shoot your father, when you flashed a camera bulb in their eyes to distract them. Your actions turned the tide of the fight."

There's a brief pause, and for a moment, all that can be heard is my uneven breathing until Herman is finally able to find his voice again.

"Without you there, I'm afraid Master Splinter – He was killed during the fight."

"N – No . . . " My sorrow comes shining through in my cracked voice and my sentence can't go any further than that one broken word.

"After that, the Kraang took your brothers and – "

Herman can't even bring himself to complete what he had been trying to say. He doesn't need to. His tragic eyes tell me the rest of the story.

Cupping a trembling hand over my mouth, I can only gape at the man in horror for what seems like an eternity.

Leo . . .

Raph . . .

Mikey . . .

Sensei . . .

Then, I realize there's still one member of our 'family' that the man hasn't spoken of yet.

"What about April, Herman? What happened to her?" My words come out just louder than a whisper, making it painfully obvious that I'm terrified to hear of April's fate.

I soon learn my apprehension is completely warranted.

"Without you and your brothers there to rescue her, April was captured by the Kraang. She was the key component to them taking over the Earth."

"And is she . . . is she s – still alive?"

Another shake of the head.

Another knife to my heart.

I have to close my eyes at this, for fear of completely losing my composure.

The thought of my whole family dying at the tentacles of the Kraang . . .

It's more than I can take.

No longer able to support my weight, I fall to my knees on the threshold of my oldest brother's empty bedroom.

"Now do you see what an impact your life has made on not just your family, but the whole world, Donatello?"

"Yes . . . Yes, I do . . . And I'm sorry I didn't see it before . . . But I've learned my lesson, Herman. I swear. Now please . . . _Please_ change things back."

Wiping the tears away from my eyes, I glance up at Herman, but what I see – or rather _don't_ see makes my heart start to gallop inside my chest.

The hallway is now just as empty as Leo's room.

"H – Herman?"

Pulling myself into an upright position, I frantically start searching every inch of the lair, but there is no trace of the man I had just been talking to. There isn't even a footprint left behind in the dust.

It's like he was never even here.

" **HERMAN**!" I shout the name so loudly, my voice nearly gives out from the strain, but there's still no response.

He's gone, and with him, any potential chance of turning things back to normal.

What have I done?

My whole family is gone . . .

No more Mikey to make me laugh or give me a huge bear hug when I'm down.

No more Raph to help me work on the stealth bike or listen to rock music with.

No more Leo to show me how to improve my form or try to beat me at chess.

No more Master Splinter to teach me about the past or train me how to fight.

No more April to ask me questions about her calculus homework or tell me what it's like to actually be in high school.

They're gone . . .

They're gone because of _me_ . . .

All this time, I've been complaining about them not appreciating me enough, when I'm the one who should've appreciated _them_ more. I should've appreciated all that I had.

And now, it's too late.

If I can't find Herman, I'm going to be stuck in this awful reality forever.

This isn't a 'special gift' like Herman had promised. This is the worst possible gift ever imaginable.

A life without my family is no life at all.

Tilting my head back, I call out for Herman, as loud as my voice will carry.

"Please come back! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have said that things would be easier if I'd never been mutated! Or that things would be better off without me! They're not! I don't want this! I want my family back! I want things just like they were before! Please, Herman! I promise to appreciate them more! Please! Please just bring them back!"

I drop down to my knees once again and bury my face in my hands. Partly because I'm so overwhelmed with unspeakable grief, but mostly because I suddenly have this shooting pain in my head. The pressure just keeps building and building, to the point that it feels as if someone's trying to drive a stake straight through my skull.

A howl of pain rips out of my throat, raw and hoarse. "Gyahhh!"

Without warning, the whole room starts to spin and my vision fills with bursts of light, almost like a kaleidoscope.

Completely out of breath, I collapse onto the floor with a heavy thud. As I lie here in the middle of the lair, splayed out on my plastron, I begin to shiver uncontrollably. So much so, my teeth are audibly chattering. My skin feels as though it's freezing cold and burning hot at the same time, but before long, any sensation of discomfort fades away right along with my shivering. Each inhale and exhale seems to be getting further and further apart. The slow, shallow sound of my breathing is soothing, lulling me to sleep.

A little voice deep inside my head tells me that something is seriously wrong with me and I shouldn't close my eyes. That if I do, I won't ever wake up, but the exhaustion is greater than my will to fight. I'm just too tired to keep my eyelids open a second longer. And so, I seal them shut, and the moment I do, blackness swallows me whole.

 _ **To be continued . . .**_

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: Awww! Poor, poor Donnie. This chapter breaks my heart. 8{**_

 _ **So, what does everyone think is going to happen in the final chapter? Will there be a happy ending? Will Donatello ever see his family again? You'll find out soon enough, because I plan on posting the last chapter on my 'regular' day and time this week.**_

 _ **If you're a fan of this story, please take a moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment. I would absolutely**_ _ **LOVE**_ _ **to know if you're enjoying 'Because You Weren't There.' Thank you very, very much for reading. See you soon.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_


	5. Chapter 5 - All I Want for Christmas

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise, 'It's a Wonderful Life', or 'The Greatest Gift.'**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: Well, I promised everyone that I would get the remainder of this story posted before Santa arrives, so here's the final chapter of 'Because You Weren't There,' just in the 'Nick' of time. Aw, Santa puns . . . They're ho-larious!**_ **XD**

 _ **Thank you all very, very much for reading this story and providing me with such amazing feedback. Oh my gosh! I'm so incredibly grateful to each and every one of you. You are**_ _ **all**_ _ **spectacular! *hugs***_

 _ **Okay, I'm sure everyone's anxious to find out how this is going to end, so let's jump right into it.**_

 _ **I really hope you enjoy the conclusion of this story. Thank you for reading.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Chapter 5 – All I Want for Christmas**

There's a familiar voice cutting through the darkness, trying to pull me out of whatever stupor I'm in. At first, the words drifting over me are quiet and impossible to understand, but they soon start to make sense, syllable by syllable. While I struggle to pick apart the vocabulary, I recognize the soft voice as my hotheaded older brother's, although he sounds strange. The usual gruffness in his tone is missing.

"Please, Donnie. I don't know how much more of this we can take. You need to wake up, little brother. Please . . . Just open your eyes." The heartfelt pleading is accompanied by faint sniffling sounds.

Is Raph . . . crying?!

I feel a callused hand wrap around my own, and just out of instinct, I give it a squeeze. My grip is embarrassingly weak, but it's strong enough to get an excited reaction.

"D – Donnie? Donnie, can you hear me?"

Since Raph's voice is the only one I'm able to detect, I think I can safely assume the hand holding my own belongs to him. I give it another squeeze as I attempt to pry my eyelids apart. After much squinting and blinking, I can finally see that I'm lying on my bed. Raphael is sitting next to me with an uncharacteristic smile etched across his face. He's definitely a sight for sore eyes.

"R – Raph." Barely any sound comes out of me, but the croaky noise is enough to make my older brother's already broad smile somehow widen even more.

"Guys! Guys! He's awake! Get in here!"

My brother's thunderous shouting causes my head to immediately start pounding like a bass drum. I clamp my eyes back shut and let out a low hiss of pain.

Raph's response to this is to squeeze my hand with a surprisingly gentle grip.

While I try to force my eyes open again, I hear the shuffling of multiple pairs of feet approaching.

As to be expected, Mikey is the first to spring into action.

"Donnie!"

Before I'm able to fully get my bearings straight or even try to sit up, I'm enveloped in a crushing hug from my youngest sibling, which I eagerly return. I've never been so thrilled to see my baby brother in all my life.

"I'm super happy you're okay, D! I thought we'd lost you, bro!" Mikey tightens his grip around me and nuzzles his face into my neck, softly sniffling just like Raph had been earlier.

"I thought I'd lost you, too. I – I can't believe you're all h – here." My voice noticeably hitches as I say this and I'm finding it hard not to break down. Choking back a sob, I lean further into Mikey's embrace and pull him as close as I can without suffocating him.

"I'm really, really sorry for breaking your goggles, Donnie." The heavy remorse in Mikey's apology makes my heart shatter like glass.

"No, Mikey. I'm the one who should be sorry. I should've never gotten angry at you like that. I'm so sorry, little brother."

Mikey sniffles a few more times, and then, lets out a contented sigh. That's when the rest of my family suddenly joins in on the hug, including April.

Wait! April's here?!

I peer up at my family and see that everyone looks as though they've been run through the wringer, which instantly makes my mind flash back to something Mikey had said just seconds ago . . .

" _I'm super happy you're okay, D! I thought we'd lost you, bro!"_

They thought that they'd lost _me_?

Though I hate to be the one to break up the group hug, my insatiable need for answers takes precedence. I wriggle my way out of the embrace and notice that each movement is making my head pound even worse than before. Curious as to why this is, I stretch the fingertips of my right hand towards my forehead and wince at what I discover.

Bandages?

"Wh – What happened to my head?"

My eyes volley back and forth between my family members, waiting for someone to answer my question. They all exchange nervous glances until Leo finally speaks up.

"Well, when you didn't return any of our calls or come home after about an hour, we asked April if you'd stopped by her place. When she said no, we tracked you down using the GPS in your T-phone. We found you lying unconscious on a rooftop in Chinatown. You must have slipped and fallen and cracked your head."

As soon as Leo pauses for breath, Raph adds his two cents.

"Yeah, and by the time we got to you, you were practically a freaking turtlesicle. Scared us all half to death, brainiac."

Hearing this, I look down and see that I'm covered with what I assume is every blanket in the lair. It seems a bit excessive, but hey, it's the thought that counts, right?

"As Raphael was saying, in his own rather unique way, you were suffering from severe hypothermia when we found you, Donatello. If we had not gotten to you when we did, we may not have been able to save you. You are very fortunate, my son. As are we." Master Splinter rests a paw on my shoulder and the corners of his mouth curl up into a warm smile.

Then, April takes her turn at contributing to the story.

"We rushed you back to the lair as fast as we could and patched you up, but you've been out cold for nearly twenty-four hours now. We've all been so worried about you, D." April leans down and gives me another quick hug, which makes me giggle like a hopeless dork, as always.

Way to impress her, Donatello . . .

Once I pull myself back together, I decide another apology is in order.

"I'm sorry for making all of you worry . . . And for acting like a selfish jerk."

"It's all good, bro. Oh, and look! I totally fixed your goggles for you! See? Good as new!"

Mikey picks up a crumpled-looking cardboard box from my nightstand and presents it to me with a grin that spans from ear slit to ear slit. I graciously grin back at him and open the lid of the box to check out my younger brother's handiwork.

Okay, just so we're clear, I'm reasonably certain that wrapping a nearly full roll of duct tape around something broken doesn't actually qualify as good as new, but somehow, it just doesn't matter. To me, they look perfect.

"Thanks, Mikey."

"No problem, bro. Merry Christmas, D!"

Oh my gosh! It's Christmas! I can't believe it! I made my entire family waste their holiday waiting around for me to wake up!

"I am so sorry. I totally ruined Christmas for everyone."

"Awww, no you didn't, bro. We're all just happy that you're finally awake. And we've still got lots of time to celebrate!" Never short on enthusiasm, Mikey thrusts both of his fists high up into the air.

My father's response that follows is much less animated, but just as affectionate. "Yes, and now that you are awake, we have even more reason to celebrate, my son." Upon hearing this, my eyes start to well up with tears, but a rather delicate noogie from Raph temporarily saves me from getting too sentimental.

"Plus, you spared us from having to listen to Mikey ask if we can open presents all day long. It's been kind of nice."

Mikey lets out a 'hmphh' and starts to pout, which only serves to amuse Raph all the more.

"Speaking of presents, I found this sitting in the hallway when we got back to the lair after finding you, Donnie. I'm not sure who it's from, but the gift tag is addressed to you." Leo steps around the bed and picks up a neatly wrapped package that apparently has been sitting on the floor this whole time. He then sets it down next to me.

With a bit of help from my brothers, I lift myself up into a sitting position and wait for the consequent dizzy spell to subside. When it finally does, I take hold of the box and study it closely. I don't recognize the handwriting on the gift tag, which definitely has me curious as to who could have delivered it.

Could it be?

Mind racing, I impatiently peel the wrapping paper away and my eyes grow wide with wonder.

Is it possible that what I saw wasn't just a figment of my imagination?

Did it really happen?

The logical part of my brain tells me no, but how else can I explain what I'm now holding in my hands?

"Dude! It's a movie! But it looks super old . . . and lame." The obvious disappointment in Mikey's voice makes me softly chuckle. My baby brother is always quick to judge a book – or in this case, a movie by its cover. I guess we're all a little guilty of that sometimes, aren't we?

"Actually, I've been told it's the greatest Christmas movie of all time."

Mikey snorts at this and shakes his head in denial.

Once again, I can't help but chuckle.

"So, who's it from, Donnie?" Though Leo tries to make his question sound like simple small talk, I can hear the underlying hint of concern in his voice. I'm not the least bit surprised. A mysterious package turns up in our secret lair while we were out. Of course Leo's going to be concerned.

The problem is, I don't know how to answer the question. If I tell them the truth, they're all going to think I have brain damage or slap a straightjacket on me. Or, worse yet, Leo's going put the whole lair on lockdown until he can find the 'intruder.'

Though I don't generally endorse lying to one's family, I believe a little Christmas fib is necessary here.

"I, uh, ordered it online. I must have accidentally clicked the gift-wrap feature, and when I didn't specify a name, they probably just automatically addressed it to me."

I can see that my oldest brother still looks rather skeptical. To be honest, I can't blame him. It wasn't a very convincing answer.

"So how did it wind up in the hallway?"

You know the old saying 'one lie leads to another?' Well, it definitely applies here.

"I'm guessing it fell out of the box when I was bringing it to my room yesterday. Obviously, I should've been paying more attention. Heh, heh. Lucky no one stepped on it."

Man, I really hope he buys that.

"Yeah. Lucky." There's still a suspicious look on Leo's face, but much to my relief, Mikey unknowingly comes to my rescue by providing the perfect distraction.

"So, can we open presents now? Please, please, please, please, _pleeeeeeeeeease_?" Pressing the palms of his hands flat together, my baby brother shamelessly demonstrates that he has no qualms with begging.

"Only if Donatello is feeling up to it, my son. We must not push him too soon. Perhaps it would be best if he got more rest."

"No, no. I – I'm okay, Sensei. I think I've made you guys wait long enough." My timid response is all the approval Mikey needs.

"Aw, yeah! Merry Christmas, everyone! Yule-akasha!"

A chorus of cheers and holiday well-wishes ring out, causing another layer of tears to cloud my vision as I lovingly peer up at my family.

I now realize that they are the greatest gift I could ever receive.

I may never know for sure if Herman was actually real or if everything I saw was just a result of a traumatic head injury, but I do know without a single doubt that I will never forget the valuable lesson I have learned this holiday season.

Looking back down at the cover of the VHS tape still clutched in my hands, I smile at the movie title.

It is wonderful. It truly, truly is.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***Author's Notes: Of course the story has a happy ending. 'Tis the season to be merry, after all.**_

 _ **I really hope that you enjoyed your special Christmas gift, Captain Vegeta. And I hope that everyone else enjoyed this story as well. Please take a moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment on this story if you did. I would love to know.**_

 _ **I want to wish everyone the happiest of holiday seasons and a fabulous new year. Thank you all so much for your overwhelming kindness and for the amazing support you continue to give me, week after week. You are all such wonderful gifts. I truly am blessed to have so many extraordinary friends and readers. I adore all of you. *hugs***_ **8}** _ **CJ**_


	6. Epilogue - Attaboy, Mikey

_***Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles franchise, 'It's a Wonderful Life', or 'The Greatest Gift.'**_

 _ ***Author's Notes: Just in time for the holidays, I've returned with a new installment of 'Because You Weren't There.'**_

 _ **While this story was a Christmas present to a very dear friend of mine (Captain Vegeta), this particular chapter was written specifically for my father. I love you very, very much, daddy! Thank you for getting me addicted to 'It's a Wonderful Life' all those years ago. Watching the movie, over and over again, with you is one of my fondest childhood memories. I loved the movie back then, but I love it even**_ _ **more**_ _ **now that I'm all 'grown up' and fully understand the true meaning behind this inspirational film.**_

 _ **I really hope you all enjoy the chapter. Thank you for reading.**_ **;)** _ **CJ**_

* * *

 **Epilogue – Attaboy, Mikey**

There are certain, dare I say, perks associated with near-death experiences. I like to refer to them as sympathy pains.

After being critically injured, the wounded party is entitled to a number of special privileges they normally wouldn't receive had their life not been hanging by a thread. Privileges my baby brother oftentimes milks like dairy cattle. I, on the other hand, try to be a little less needy and a lot less melodramatic about the whole thing. Rather than run the risk of overplaying my hand, I ask for small, modest favors here and there. Humble requests, such as fetching me a glass of water or a couple of aspirin. Or, in this case, asking my family to sit down and watch a movie with me.

I mean, how could they possibly say no to something as simple as that, right?

Especially at a time like this.

It's Christmas, after all. Not to mention I _almost_ died.

Okay, who's the melodramatic one now?

Anyway, I digress…

My point is, these unspoken 'privileges' were the only way I was ever going to get my entire family to suffer through a two hour and fifteen-minute, black and white film. A film that contains no cussing, no gore, no graphic violence, no inappropriate content – just pure, wholesome goodness. In other words, I exploited my family's kindness and subjected them to a movie they would've never, in a million years, watched voluntarily. And now that the end credits are scrolling up the screen to the tinny-sounding tune of 'Buffalo Gals,' I'm feeling a teeny, tiny bit guilty for taking advantage of the very people I supposedly love the most in this world. It certainly doesn't help that Mikey is staring up at me with his huge, dewy blue eyes; a Santa hat flopped to one side.

It's times like this, I wish I wasn't cursed with a conscience. Things would be so much easier if I didn't have a sense of what's right or wrong.

Kind of like Raph…

"I'm confused."

Just as I open my mouth to ask my little brother 'why,' my oldest brother beats me to the punch.

"About what, Mikey? The fact that the cop just started open-firing at an unarmed man right in the middle of a crowded street?"

Leave it to straight-as-an-arrow Leonardo to notice something like that.

Need I point out this is the _same_ turtle who's always willing to overlook his precious Captain Ryan's obvious ethical shortcomings?

I'm just saying – or rather, just thinking…

"No. No, not that." Mikey shakes his head from side to side and wrinkles up his beak in what I assume is contemplation. Of course, it could just as soon be that he bit his tongue. It's hard to tell with my baby brother. His train of thought shifts like the sea.

Looking confident he knows the answer, Raph takes the next stab at guessing what's got Mikey so baffled.

"Because George didn't kick the crap out of his brother for constantly giving him the short end of the stick? Some brother Harry was. Always taking what was rightfully George's and stealing his thunder, like George was beneath him. What a selfish jerk!"

I can't help but notice my two older brothers lock heated glares, as though silently accusing each other of something.

Clearly, Raphael's guess was intended to be a dig at Leo, but as usual, Mikey is totally oblivious to the fleeting moment of tension.

"Nope. That's not it, either."

Lips twisting into what can only be described as a sneer, April looks over at Mikey with a smolder in her eyes.

Not a good kind of smolder.

"Maybe it's the ridiculous notion that Mary became a frightened old maid just because George was never born. Like her entire life revolved around the existence of _one_ guy. Not to mention they made it seem like being a single, working class woman was the worst possible fate imaginable! Puh-leeeeease! The movie probably set feminism back twenty years or more."

As much as I adore April, there are times when she out-and-out scares me.

Take right now, for instance…

She's currently scowling at us as though we're her sworn enemies.

It's enough to make a grown turtle shake in his shell. In fact, I can actually hear Mikey's teeth chattering. April must hear them, too, because her features suddenly soften into something a little less homicidal. Only then does my younger brother feel as if it's safe to answer, but not before gulping so loud, it seems to echo throughout the lair.

"N – No."

Three up, three down.

I suppose this technically makes it my turn to wager a guess, since Master Splinter doesn't appear to be the least bit interested in the conversation.

Well, here goes nothing…

"Okay, okay! I've got it! I bet it's because a movie extolling the value of friendship ends with a song that contains the lyrics 'Should auld acquaintance be forgot, and never brought to mind?' Talk about sending mixed signals. Am I right?"

I can practically hear crickets chirping in the background as they all stare at me with glassy eyes, like I just spoke in some foreign language.

I get this look a lot...

"You know? 'Auld Lang Syne?' The famous Scots poem written by – " I stop myself mid-sentence when I realize I'm only digging the hole deeper. No point in boring them out of their skulls with some long-winded, highbrow answer when I could save myself the breath and just cut to the chase. "Nevermind. Why don't you just tell us what you're confused about, Mikey?"

All eyes are now on my baby brother and his freckled face instantly takes on a bright, rosy glow. Whether his blushing is from embarrassment or too much of that funky tasting eggnog Raph brought home, I'll never know.

"Well, I guess I just don't get why some dude never being born made it stop snowing. That didn't make any sense."

I can't stop a huge grin from crossing my face.

Mikey never ceases to amaze me. Just when you think you've got him all figured out, he does a complete one-eighty on you. He's a bit of a mystery, the little goofball. Behind that happy-go-lucky exterior, there lies something much, much deeper, that despite all my intelligence, I'll never truly be able to understand.

But that's okay. If there's anything I've learned this Christmas season, it's that things don't always have to make sense.

Especially when you're suffering from the lingering effects of a nasty concussion…

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***More Author's Notes: Short and sweet, just like Mikey.**_

 _ **I hope you all have a magical holiday season and an extraordinary new year. Huge thanks to each and every one of you for the kindness you have shown me and for being so wonderful.**_

 _ **If you enjoyed this story or any of my other ones, please take a moment to favorite, follow, like, reblog, review, and/or comment. Your positive feedback always makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.**_

 _ **Thanks so much for reading, everyone.**_ **⊂(** **ᴖ◡ᴖ** **)つ**

 _ **CJ**_


End file.
